Yours
by Gaow
Summary: Avengers One-Shot; FrostIron; Uh, has a wittle violence NOTE: I don't own the Avengers.


A/N: Okay, before you even start reading this, I'd like to say...

I HAVE NO FRIGGIN IDEA WHAT I WAS TRYING TO WRITE.

I don't even know where this is going.

Welp, I somewhat do.

But...

Anyways,

I'm probably just going to leave it at thins, but...

I _might_write a second 'Chapter' to this.

If I come up with anything.

Or if I get some feedback... But I somewhat doubt feedback will work. So if my little 'muse' decides to be a little beotch, I doubt I will be.

And this is what happened when I tried to begin to write something sexual.

I got this much done, had it all planned out, then _**BANG!**___train of thought hit a cow.

Uhh... Anyways...

Enjoy? I think.

~Gaow

He was with that woman.

He could see the two figures from where he stood, in the shadows.

They were standing together, looking like the perfect couple as they walked around the ballroom to speak to different guests at the party he had thrown for the Midgardian woman. Despite the fact that the two had broken up long before, it still made the stranger irate at how well they looked together.

He grit his teeth as he watched the woman throw her head back in a laugh, almost leaning against the Avenger whom was dressed properly, in the suite.

_The suite looked nice on him_, the stranger noted dryly, his cold eyes looking the man over. It was amazing how such a simple look could make the air around him vibrate with sexuality and lust. He licked his lips, the anger gnawing at his center as Stark brought his hand to rest against Pepper's back.

His eyes seemed to burn holes into the two, and he shifted his eyes away, afraid to gain attention to himself.

He hadn't escaped from his prison and kept himself under the radar just to get caught now.

He growled slightly, shaking his head.

He would get his chance soon.

He melted into the shadows just as the Avenger whirled his head around to stare at the spot the stranger had just been.

Loki stared at the man that was chained to the wall in the basement of Stark's penthouse – a room Stark had been planning to use as an extra work room. The room was rather bare, only consisting of a few things. Those few things being a small closet containing spare clothes, and a bed in the middle of the room.

The man, who looked more than half dead – from lack of sleep – looked up at Loki, his dark eyes locking onto Loki's emerald green ones.

"Loki?" He groaned, bringing a hand to his head. "Why the hell am I in chains? How the hell did you get here? Where the fuck am I?"

Loki's eyes glinted mischievously, and he chuckled slightly, squatting down in front of his new obsession.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Stark." Loki licked his dry lips, taking his time to look the man up and down. "As to why I am here," he reached a hand and gripped Tony's chin with his long, skeletal fingers.

Stark tried desperately to yank away from the Norse god, but seeing as he was already against the wall; it was incredibly hard to do. Not only that, but his grip was surprisingly strong, and it only seemed to strengthen as the Avenger tried to fight back.

"– That is because I do _not_like it when my little toy has his eyes on someone else," Loki snarled, his fingernails digging into soft flesh. Tony flinched slightly, feeling as if Loki's fingers were made of ice.

They were so cold, and they seemed to pierce him to the bone.

Which of course wasn't true; it was just an illusion, he knew that, yet it felt too real.

He felt his heart drop as he realized just what the man was talking about.

The Asgardian was talking about Pepper.

"I'm not your toy!" Loki was sent sprawling to the side as a fist connected with his jaw.

The god of mischief lay there, sprawled on the floor for a moment, his form limp before stood up with a small, guttural growl. From where he sat, Tony could see the thin line of blood that had dribbled down from the corner of his lips. Loki wiped his chin with the back of his hand, the blood smudging against his white skin.

Like red paint on a white canvas.

Loki cocked his head to the side, black hair swaying slightly. "Oh? You're not?" The god was in front of the Midgardian once more, this time straddling the man's hips. His cheek was pressed against Tony's own, and he shuddered as he felt Loki's lips brush up against his ear. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Loki took the man's earlobe into his mouth sucking on it lightly before moving down to his neck. He showered the skin with kisses before stopping at the soft spot between his shoulder and neck.

Tony let out a small noise – a mix between a yelp and a whimper – as Loki took the skin into his mouth, nibbling on it lightly before biting him.

Hard.

As if to claim him.

Tony swore, thrashing about for a moment, trying to yank away – at least that's what he thought he was doing.

_SMACK!_

The sound resonated throughout the room, and Stark blinked stars away as he was punched in the face. His head had rammed into the wall and the pain was almost blinding.

"The fuck was that for?" Stark snarled once he had come to his senses.

"A reminder." The answer was short and clipped, as if it were obvious and to be expected. "To remind you that you are mine."

Loki looked like the devil himself as he pulled away from the billionaire's neck.

"I. Am. Not. Yours."

Loki smirked.

"Not at the moment," he purred. "But you will be."


End file.
